


i'm the universe and you'll be nasa

by centuri



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Canon Compliant, Chapter 402 Spoilers, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Light BDSM, M/M, Oikawa Tooru's Birthday, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:15:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25398274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/centuri/pseuds/centuri
Summary: After the games of the Tokyo summer Olympics, Oikawa gets his reward.Or: some things are worth more than gold.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 37
Kudos: 321





	i'm the universe and you'll be nasa

**Author's Note:**

> Idk why I chose this of all things to be the first fic I ever publish but. Happy birthday Oikawa! I guess?
> 
> The title is NASA by Ariana Grande. This was supposed to be straightforward porn, but then the 402 feels snuck their way in.

The blindfold makes it so much hotter. Spread out naked on the bed like this, chest flush against the mattress, hands tied behind his back and hips raised in the air, Oikawa feels exposed in a way he’s never felt before. He’s at Iwaizumi’s mercy now; he can’t even see where Iwaizumi is, can’t predict what he’s going to do next.

There’s a brief stroke to his upper thigh, gone as sudden as it came. Oikawa squirms. Iwaizumi has been teasing him like this for upwards of several minutes now - light, airy touches dancing along his spine or brushed over his ass. They disappear each time Oikawa tries to lean into them, tries to push for more contact.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, “stop teasing.”

He yelps when a sharp smack lands on his ass. “Did you just -”

“Try again,” Iwaizumi says.

Oikawa swallows. Hard. “Haji - Hajime.”

“Better.” Iwaizumi spanks him again, lighter this time. Rather than abandon him, though, this time around, the hand begins to explore the soft skin of his ass and upper thighs. The weight of it, the heat of it against his skin, is grounding. “Now tell me what you want.”

“I want you to touch me,” Oikawa answers, immediate. “Want you to fuck me.” On any other day, maybe he’d be embarrassed. Maybe he’d make Iwaizumi work a little harder for it. But Iwaizumi’s fleeting touches have already got him keyed up, and the blindfold acts as a sort of mask to the outside world, making him all the more shameless.

He hears a tiny, choked-off sound from somewhere behind him, and smiles. Apparently his words - coupled with the sight of him laid bare, he's sure - are getting to Iwaizumi.

Oikawa cants his ass backward into Iwaizumi’s touch and wriggles it around. “C’mon, Hajime. I’m all yours. I bet I look really nice like this, right? All pretty and ready for you.”

Iwaizumi laughs, and Oikawa warms to hear it. “You’re ridiculous.”

He withdraws his hand, and Oikawa pouts at the loss of pressure. But not seconds later, his ears perk up when he hears the smooth click of the lube bottle.

And then Iwaizumi trails his fingers over the crease of Oikawa’s ass, petting lightly over his hole, and Oikawa gasps. “Hajime -”

He’s cut off on a moan when Iwaizumi presses a finger in. He clenches down around it. It’s been so long since he’s had the time to let Iwaizumi take him apart properly. The Olympic matches over the past few days had left him too exhausted for anything more than sleepy kisses and cuddles. Before that, Oikawa’s strict training regimen meant he couldn’t afford to partake in any activities that might render him unable to play at his best. Before _that,_ Iwaizumi had been a Pacific Ocean away, and… well.

But he’s here now, and they’re together. Their last night in the Olympic village, and Iwaizumi still has every part of his body memorized, like a sailor and his night sky.

He’s made his way up to two fingers now, pumping in and out of Oikawa, scissoring together and apart. There’s a pleasant ache to it, a burn and a stretch that Oikawa revels in, all of it heightened by the loss of sight. Oikawa starts moving in time with the thrusts, shoving his hips back and urging Iwaizumi for _more, deeper, he can take it._

“C’mon, Hajime. C’mon, I’m not gonna break, please -”

“God, are you that desperate for it already? Just on my fingers?” He underlines his point with a particularly hard thrust, slipping a third finger past Oikawa’s rim. “What d’you think your teammates would think if they saw their star setter reduced to this?”

The thought has heat rising to Oikawa’s cheeks. “Iwa-chan, don’t be jealous just because you lost - ah!”

He gasps when Iwaizumi hits his prostate dead-on. It gets even worse when Iwaizumi keeps his fingers locked there, rubbing against the ball of nerves. Fireworks spark behind Oikawa’s eyelids. He wishes he could see - this is all getting to be too much for him to handle.

“Iwa-chan - Iwa-chan, _please_.”

Another slap to his ass. It _burns._ “What did I tell you, Tooru?”

“Ah - Hajime! Hajime, I need it -”

He tests his restraints, the silk rope binding his arms, and finds that it’s tied too tight to afford him any wiggle room.

“What do you need, baby?”

“Inside,” Oikawa says, out of breath. “Wanna come with you inside.”

“Good boy,” Iwaizumi says, and Oikawa’s stomach twists.

Then he’s removing his fingers, and Oikawa’s hole tries to constrict around nothing. A few seconds go by, and -

“Hajime, why aren’t you in me yet?” Oikawa whines.

A reassuring hand smooths over his flank. “Just enjoying the view. You were right, baby. You do look nice like this.”

Oikawa lifts his head from the pillow and turns to glare at Iwaizumi. He can’t see it, of course, but after years of attuning to each other’s mannerisms, he ought to get the point.

He does. With a low chuckle, Iwaizumi lines his cock up with Oikawa’s entrance. Oikawa feels the blunt head of it pressing against him, and shivers. “Haji -”

That’s all he gets out, because Iwaizumi drives into him with one hard thrust, propelling his body forward against the mattress. He cries out - usually he’d be grabbing the sheets for purchase, but with his arms tied - literally - there’s nothing he can do.

“Color?”

“ _Green,_ Hajime, fuck - just _move._ ”

Iwaizumi grunts. He fucks Oikawa with no holds barred, aggressive from the outset. Familiar as they are with each other, it only takes him a few tries to pinpoint Oikawa’s prostate, and from then on he manages to hit it without fail every time.

He grabs onto Oikawa’s hips for purchase, fingers digging into the soft skin there, pulling him back to meet every thrust. And Oikawa - Oikawa is helpless to take it, moans and whimpers and scattered cries of _Hajime_ and _more_ falling from his lips like stars.

Oikawa can picture the way Iwaizumi looks right now, brow furrowed in light concentration as he pounds into Oikawa’s body. Sweat dripping down the length of his neck, his chest - body toned and muscled because he’s still working out even though he stopped playing volleyball regularly.

And the _sounds_ are the worst of it. His ears are so sensitive now, fixating on the muffled grunts and moans from Iwaizumi’s direction, the soft thud of Iwaizumi’s hipbones against his cheeks, the sick squelch of lube as Iwaizumi drives into him over and over.

It’s like the whole of his universe narrows down to this: darkness, and Iwaizumi’s warmth around him, and he feels so full and everything is so hot.

Iwaizumi reaches down to grip the base of Oikawa’s cock where it lay neglected between his legs. He squeezes, and Oikawa lets out a strangled sound.

“You wanted to come with my cock in you,” Iwaizumi says, strain evident in his voice. “So do it.”

_Fuck._

“Why - are you always so - mean to me?” The words escape in between heavy pants.

He can picture the easy way Iwaizumi shrugs, never once breaking the rough, unrelenting rhythm he’s set. “Someone needs to remind you where your place is.”

A shiver of pleasure works through Oikawa’s body. He knows where his place is, thank you very much - _on the world stage, gold around his neck -_ but that’s not to say he doesn’t like this, too. He likes the possessive heat in Iwaizumi’s voice, likes the idea of being held down and made to take whatever Iwaizumi will give him.

His climax is coiling tight inside him, supernova bright - just a little more, and he’ll be pushed over the edge. Iwaizumi seems to know this, because he fists his hand in Oikawa’s hair and _pulls,_ forcing Oikawa to arch his back in a taut curve.

Oikawa cries out, chorusing _yes, yes, yes_ as Iwaizumi continues to drive into him. The blindfold, he finds, is wet with tears, and he doesn’t even remember when he started crying.

Iwaizumi fits his face in the curve of Oikawa’s shoulder, presses kisses to the tanned skin there. With the hand still on Oikawa’s cock, he jerks him off one, two, three times, and -

And Oikawa comes with a silent scream, mouth falling open, too strung out to vocalize the spiral of pure sensation ripping through him. He spills over Iwaizumi’s hand and the sheets, tremors wracking through his frame, lightning crackling behind his eyes.

And then it’s over, and he sinks, boneless, down into Iwaizumi’s arms.

Iwaizumi reaches up to untie the blindfold - Oikawa shifts out of reach before he can. “Wait,” he says, once he finds voice enough to do so, “keep it on. You haven’t come yet, have you?”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, Hajime. Use me.”

Iwaizumi kisses his jaw and starts moving again, and it’s a good thing that he’s still holding him up, because Oikawa would be a fucked-out puddle on the bed if it wasn’t for Iwaizumi’s arms slung solidly around him.

The angle is different this time. Iwaizumi manages to press even deeper inside his body. He’s not aiming anymore; this isn’t about Oikawa’s pleasure. He’s using Oikawa’s body for his own release, as requested, and fuck if that doesn’t nearly get Oikawa hard again right then and there. But he still manages to brush against his prostate every few thrusts, and it sends Oikawa barreling into oversensitivity.

The tears start afresh. Oikawa is far too aware of every nerve ending in his body, all vibrating with pleasure at once.

A few thrusts later Iwaizumi is coming with a loud moan and a sharp bite to his shoulderblade. Oikawa sighs in contentment and curls into Iwaizumi’s hold. They stay like that for several seconds, gathering their wits, before Iwaizumi’s arms loosen enough for Oikawa to shimmy out of them.

Iwaizumi pulls out, and Oikawa shudders when he feels his cum start to leak out. He flails his hands impatiently, until Iwaizumi finally unties the ropes around them. Then, before Iwaizumi can do it, he undoes the blindfold himself.

The light, at first, is blinding. Oikawa blinks through it, waits until he adjusts back to normal vision, and then he turns around until Iwaizumi’s familiar face swims into view.

“You good?” Iwaizumi brushes the last of the tears away, a small smile on his lips.

“Mmm. Extremely.” He laughs. “I hope that’s not how you reward all your players for their wins, Iwa-chan.”

“Only the most annoying ones. Here. Drink.” He passes him a bottle of water, and Oikawa takes an obliging sip.

When he’s done, Iwaizumi grabs his hand and pulls. “Come on. We need to shower.”

Oikawa hums in agreement. “But first - can I see my medal again?”

“Asshole. When will you get tired of this, already?”

But still, he reaches over and grabs the case from the nearby nightstand. Oikawa opens it, stares in silence at the gold medallion nestled within. A culmination of all his dreams, all his existence - and there’s no one he’d rather share it with. It’s not Iwaizumi’s medal, technically - although they have a running bet over which team will win in 2024 - but if it belongs to Oikawa, then it belongs to him. Oikawa is sure he already knows that.

“I’m really proud of you, you know,” Iwaizumi says.

Oikawa beams. “I know. Thanks, Hajime. I really, really love you.”

“Love you, too.” He stands again, tugs more firmly at their linked hands. “Now, seriously. Shower.”

With a laugh, Oikawa lets himself be pulled away. The medal will be there when he gets back.

Oikawa doesn’t know if his younger self would believe it - he barely believes it himself, even now - but as it turns out, there are things in his life that feel better than winning.

**Author's Note:**

> Other authors: beautiful, sentimental fics based on the end of Haikyuu!!, filled with meaningful parallels and headcanons about Oikawa and Iwaizumi's future together.  
> Me: uhh.
> 
> Seriously though, I loved the ending and I love Iwaoi ~~(Iwaizumi's proud smile at Oikawa made me melt tbh)~~. Happy birthday to my favorite boy, and thank you Furudate for the past eight years.


End file.
